


A Day at the Beach

by hobert



Category: Baywatch, Highlander: The Series
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-19
Updated: 2014-02-19
Packaged: 2018-01-13 00:50:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1206721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hobert/pseuds/hobert
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's vacation time as the cast of Highlander: The Series find themselves on the beach of Boy...I mean Baywatch. Sand, surf, and a mysterious visitor make for laughes all around. Presented in surround sound, and closed captioned for the hearing impared.</p><p>WARNING: Some material may be offensive to party-poopers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Day at the Beach

**Author's Note:**

> The following is a Highlander/Baywatch crossover. It contains everything commonly found on either of the shows. Remember, you were warned! P.S. - Lifeguards call the red flotation device they use in rescues a 'can'. For more information on life-saving devices, contact your local library.
> 
> I wrote this listening to Seal's "Kiss from a Rose" on repeat for several hours. That should give you a clue.

**A DAY AT THE BEACH**  
 _A Highlander/Baywatch Fantasy_  
by Kevi... er, Stu Smith 

"Maaacccccc..." came the whiny voice from behind. Stopping in the sand, inches away from the pounding LA surf, Duncan MacLeod, of the Clan MacLeod, turned, watching his young sidekick, the redheaded Richie Ryan, struggle with the ice chest, umbrella, two towels, and Tessa's new lawn chair. **(Try diagraming THAT sentence!)** The Highlander immediately lost interest, instead taking a moment to watch his current love partner and artist, Tessa Noel, saunter across the sand behind Richie. For once, she was wearing more than could be stuffed in an envelope. _Only for the near future,_ he added, thankful he had gotten a different room... no, make that hotel, for Richie. _It could almost be like...._ Duncan was lost in a flashback so intimate, you can't read it without a legal guardian present, when Richie's voice cut through the dry ice fog. "Maaccc, what are we doing here? Why didn't we stay in Seacouver like always?" For a moment, the overburdened youngster looked like the new Power Rangers monster, 'Wal-marta', in lime green OP shorts and thongs. 

Duncan thought a little bit, selecting a line he had wanted to say since the Indian flashback last year. "I'm here to see a man about a horse," he yelled, a bevy of busty coeds running by on cue and disturbing the peace. _Actually, I wouldn't call it running... More like bouncing up and down while progressing forward,_ he thought, distracted by the scenery. The horse in question was an antique statue called 'The Horse', of course. "Besides, a guy can't get a decent tan in Seacouver," he added. 

"But I burn so easily..." whined Richie, upset that the group of girls ignored him, instead focusing their short attention span on his benefactor. Like always. Plus, the ice chest kept swinging into his limited field of vision. 

"Now, Richie," began Tessa, coming up behind the young redhead, her French accent as real as the Eiffel Tower. "Nobody except Wardrobe cares about your tan line, so just shut up and put our stuff over there." She waved her hand in the direction of the area set aside for the stars. The loaded redhead shuffled off, leaving the woman with her man. A man that stared at the pounding surf instead of her. "Duncan, what are you thinking?" she inquired, wrapping her arms around him from behind, hoping it wasn't Amanda, or Grace, or Annie, or Linda, or Randi, or... 

The Highlander sighed. "I was wondering if my paycheck was worth what I'm about to do." From behind the camera, all of the female crew and two of the male crew nodded eagerly, the Pepsi slogan wafting over the gulls. Mary Anne was especially glad she had decided to visit California this week. 

Tessa squeezed him, whispering breathily in his ear. "Let's get wet," she suggested seductively, tossing her sunglasses and hat to the wind, running in her white one piece outfit to the water. Duncan followed suit, stripping his shirt and running shorts off, joining her in the water. 

The rock music song intro swelled as Duncan slowly rose from the frothy water, his white speedo clinging to his body. It was the smallest Costuming could find on short notice. Idly, he shook his head, swinging his long, dark hair, sending water droplets lazily flying through the air. The second verse began as Tessa jumped up in the water, laughing, hitting the oversized beach ball back the way it came. Next was a shot of Richie, landing face first in the sand, a volleyball bouncing near his dejected face, knocking sand into his eyes. Then back to Duncan, still in the water up to his knees, languidly reaching up and back, grouping his hair into a ponytail, the beach ball sailing through the air behind him. The second chorus crescendoed as Richie and Tessa merrily splashed each other in the water in slo-mo, Duncan showing up at the song bridge, laughingly forcing Richie's head under the water. From there, the Highlander stumbled through the surf toward Tessa, their lips sucking together like vacuum cleaners. As the song faded, Richie surfaced down the beach, seaweed draped on his head, a flapping mackerel in each hand. 

The gull's screeches were back as Duncan emerged from the water, walking up the sand to where Tessa stood, miraculously dry, hair done, a good ten yards from the shore. She grinned as he approached. "Hey, baby," she called. "Is that your sword, or are you just happy to see me?" 

He beamed, opening his mouth to speak his extemporaneous witty comeback line. Around him, the ominous tones and buzz sounded, signaling the approached of another Immortal. It didn't help that the camera suddenly zoomed toward him at blinding speeds. _NOT THE FACE !!!_ Swiftly he turned in a circle, trying to spot the Immortal in the crowd at the beach. Hurriedly, and with many contortions, Duncan attempted to pull his katana out of the speedo without cutting off anything important. Whipping out his **EDITED!!!** _... Oops, put that back in there, MacLeod. You aren't Michael Jackson!_ ...ah, sword, the faint cries for help finally reached his ears. Without warning, a lifeguard ran by, knocking over Richie, the warning sound fading as the man dove into the surf. Duncan quickly looked around, noticing more people were looking at his sword than at his... ah, sword. Reversing his earlier dance steps, he somehow managed to cram his katana back into the speedo, to the amazement and awe of Richie and a few dozen beachgoers. Tessa just smiled knowingly. _Magic pocket, indeed,_ she thought. 

Meanwhile, the lifeguard used powerful strokes to reach the person yelling for help. The injured swimmer waved his arms when he wasn't underwater, allowing the lifeguard to spot him in the treacherous waves. Grabbing him forcefully by the neck, shoving a useless red flotation thingy at him, the lifeguard paddled to shore, taking a third less time to get back than it took to reach him. They made it to the beach in time to be surrounded by a handful of other lifeguards, each trying to look busy and helpful. By the time the swimmer was loaded on the yellow rescue truck, and the other lifeguards went back to wherever they came from, the man had a chance to survey the crowd. 

Wavy, dark hair lay plastered to his head, the aged eyes peering through the thong... ah, THRONG of people. An eye that had seen many people, in many places. Not quite young (over-the-hill) anymore, his semi-firm (Stairmaster) body rippled (the shakes) with energy (pills), especially during his close-ups. Oh, the life at Baywatch. 

He too had felt the warning, heard the music, almost got his eye gouged by a careening camera lens. It didn't take long to zero in on the trio sitting in the sand. The older man lay back on his elbows, wearing what had to be a handkerchief. The lady on the lawn chair next to him wasn't bad looking, but didn't have much in the bust department, compared to what was bobbing around here. The youngster on the end sported red hair and purple SP 100 on his nose, not to mention lime green shorts, the whole outfit screaming 'SIDEKICK'. Ignoring the loser, and deciding the woman wouldn't cut it as a series lead, he re-evaluated the first guy. Strong, good looking, fan club; this was the Immortal he felt. Walking up the beach to them, the lifeguard purposely blocked the sun from the other Immortal. "Duncan MacLeod?" he asked. 

The Highlander pulled his shades down, raking the area for laser beams before glancing out over them at the lifeguard. "Mr. Buchannon?" he asked in reply, surprised that an Immortal would want to spend eternity doing this. 

The lifeguard nodded yes, holding out his hand. "My friends call me 'Mitch'" he said, pulling the Highlander up. "And by the way," he added. "I've only been doing this since I lost my car." 

**FADE...**

* * *

(Ascending notes in a chord) Duhh, Duhh, Duuuuhhh. 

(DRUMS) da, da, da, da.... da, da, da, da. 

(Joe Dawson speaks, in serious tone)

> Some people stay in the Darkness...  
>  afraid to step into the Light.  
>  Some people need  
>  to help somebody  
>  when the edge of surrender's  
>  in sight.  
>  Don't you worry. It's gonna be all right,  
>  'cause I'm always there,  
>  I won't let you out of my sight. 

(Queen, four part a capella harmony)

> _I'll be there...  
>  Don't ever fear...  
>  I'll be there... _

(Joe again)

> Forever and always,  
>  I'm always here.... 

(Spastic Piano Break, then repeat chorus)

* * *

The two Immortals entered the main room, the highly active nerve center of Baywatch headquarters. More lifeguards, in cute white T-shirts and red shorts scampered about, talking to each other. Following the two miraculously dressed male leads, Tessa and Richie looked around, taking in their new surroundings. Shiny but useless equipment glittered and beeped everywhere they turned. "Say, isn't that from Star Trek or something?" Richie asked, nudging Tessa while pointing to a bizarre machine in the corner. She spared it a glance, then ignored it, turning again to follow the two tightest butts in the episode. 

Mitch and Duncan were in the lieutenant's office, already discussing the object that brought Duncan here. Richie and Tessa stopped at the door, unable to enter the small space, what with all thirty-seven members of the film crew crammed in one end. "Some piece of work..." Mitch was saying, moving around his desk, leaving the Highlander on the other side. 

Duncan looked back at Tessa, sparing her a wink. "Yeah, a real work of art," he said, turning back, his words dripping like molasses off his tongue. 

"No, I meant the statue," Mitch countered, drawing a full size photograph from his desk drawer. It was hard to tell what it was, the dark mahogany of the statue matching the wood stain on the walls of the lifeguard's house. "Sorry, photography is not something that comes easy to me." 

"Like emoting? That's fine," Duncan replied, turning it over and looking at the back. "Try Kodak, next time." He was absorbed, trying to decide which end of the photo was up, when Tessa coughed discretely behind him. He turned, and found most of the male staff edging closer to his lady still in the white one-piece. 

She looked behind her again. "Duncan, do you think you could ask your new friend if there might be some place I could change? Into something more suitable." Her cheeks suddenly flushed from all the attention. 

"Suits me just FINE!" one of the extras yelled, jostling for position. His friends elbowed him back. More of the Frenchwoman's skin turned red, and not from one of Duncan's spankings. Richie just helplessly looked away, wondering where all the hot babes had disappeared to. 

Mitch hit his head, stunned he had forgotten Duncan's companions. "How stupid of me. Yes, Miss Noel. HEY, SHAWNEE!" he yelled, the sea of young bucks parting for a blond, busty, petite young lifeguard. "Could you show Tessa to the changing room downstairs?" he asked the perky newcomer. 

Her eyes lit up, her $50,000 smile igniting. "Sure!" she replied, taking the older artist by the hand. They had just started to leave when Richie, hormones flaring, stepped in their way. Just out of the camera shot, something else was flaring in his shorts. 

He eyed Shawnee up and down, giving thanks to her plastic surgeon and the costuming department. "Say, when you're done, how about you and me getting wet?" he asked, hoping for the same results as Duncan. Shawnee reared back, connecting with a punch to his jaw that had Richie flying into a group of lifeguards, breaking his fall. 

"I already have a short, imbecilic boyfriend that only wants one thing. Try some other bimbo," she exclaimed before leaving, angrily dragging the smirking Tessa behind her. Richie just clutched his jaw, the sympathetic murmurings from the other guys falling on his deaf ears. 

Mitch just shook his head. "EDDIE!" he yelled, then leaned in closer to MacLeod. "Is your redheaded friend always like that?" 

Duncan tried hard not to laugh, picturing all the lame stunts Richie had pulled in the last season. He failed. "All the time," he said through the guffaws. "I guess you have the same problem?" 

Mitch shook his head in agreement. "Shawnee's fiancee. And you're about to meet him." Plowing his way through the crowd, Eddie appeared. Soggy dark hair, angry frown, the 5'6" Philadelphian-turned-lifeguard bumped into Richie, sending him barreling into the crowd again. 

"Yeah?" he asked Mitch, crossing his arms in a defiant stance. Silence descended, some of the extras looking at one another. Duncan eyed Mitch, then turned to Richie. Eddie looked at his feet, picking at his shorts. "Uh," the young lifeguard finally said, resuming his stance, "what can I do for you, Mitch?" 

Mitch exhaled, rolling his eyes. "This is Richie," he said, pointing to the redhead struggling to get up. "Go show him a good time or something. And DON'T get into any trouble" Mitch ordered, wagging his finger at the pair. Duncan huddled with Richie, waiting for the camera to close on them before speaking. 

"Be careful," Duncan told him, wondering how dangerous a sun-and-surf drama could be. Especially for anyone who wasn't in the opening credits. Seeing Richie's frown, he added, "Lighten up! And don't do anything I wouldn't do." 

Richie rocked on his feet, trying to jam his hands in the pocketless shorts. "That's just it, Mac. Here I am surrounded by the most beautiful babes on TV, and I can't even keep a girlfriend for more than one episode. Let alone score." 

Duncan felt sorry for the young man, placing his arm around the redhead's shoulders and walking him toward the outside door where Eddie waited. "Look on the bright side, Richie. This isn't Highlander. Here, you're a GUEST STAR. There's a starlet out there just waiting for you." He waited for the words to register before propelling his charge to the door. "Don't lose your head..." Duncan urged, mentally finishing with _one can only hope...,_ waving to the two sidekicks as the left. Seconds later, three ugly goons detached themselves from the shadows, following the short guys. 

Feeling someone grab his shoulder, Duncan refrained from throwing the person across the room while drawing his sword from his skin tight clothes. Instead, he turned his head, catching Mitch's concerned face in his peripheral vision. "Duncan, why did you tell him that?" the lifeguard asked. "He's not gonna get a girl. In fact, on page 57 of the script, he and Eddie..." 

"I know," Duncan cut in, clamping a free hand over Mitch's mouth, aware that there weren't any spoiler warnings. "But we can't let their hopes down, now can we? Why would they hang around?" Inwardly, he chuckled, aware of the countless times he had warned his friend to read ahead in the script. Passing by a waste basket on his way back to the office, he unobtrusively threw away the two blue sheets, marked 'SCRIPT - Richie' and '-57-, -58-.' 

*** * * * * SPOILER WARNING * * * * ***

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**(THE TOP OF PAGE -57- SAYS "WHEN EDDIE AND RICHIE COME TO, THEY FIND THEMSELVES TIED TO CHAIRS IN A CREEPY LOOKING ROOM...)**

Meanwhile, in another part of the set, Shawnee and Tessa descended the stairs, chatting animatedly. Ahead, the women's locker room to be exact, several high-pitched screams issued from behind a wooden door. Half naked girls, clutching towels, ran from the room, still wailing away. The other half were clothed in regulation lifeguard swimsuits. The two women waded through, reaching Girl #1 as the extras finished stampeding. "What's going on?" Shawnee asked, trying to calm the hysterical girl. 

"In th... there," Girl said, pointing behind her into the locker room. "A... A man. Just standing in the shower. Wa... Watching us." 

Tessa understood, walking around the frightened girl into the room. "Joe..." she called, looking around the unfamiliar place. "What do you think you are doing? Hiding in a WOMEN's dressing room!" 

The Watcher grinned sheepishly from the tiled alcove. "It's one of the few saving graces about this job," he replied, finally ambling out of the showers with his cane. "Can I help it if MacLeod is always around beautiful women? What do you think I am, a monk?" 

"Dead is what you are going to be," Tessa warned, forcefully helping the cripple out of the room. Once he as gone, Tessa turned to Shawnee, who was digging around in her locker. "I'm sorry about that. He's part of the baggage we get to drag around. Can you believe he's even followed us into our bedroom?" 

"Don't be so hard on him," Shawnee replied, holding up a mysterious round object and a lighter. "It's really not his fault. One of the producers who isn't getting enough at home probably decided that we needed some flesh, and called the writers. We've learned to live with it. But we do get even..." As she spoke, the young lifeguard lit the fuse, tossing the round ball over the dividing wall to the guy's area. Then she grabbed Tessa's arm, leading her to the door. 

Tessa nodded understandingly. "If it's not a love scene with me naked, it's poor Duncan exercising with not very much on. Like today." They peered out into the hall, the rest of the women standing strategically along the corridor. From underneath the guy's locker room door, smoke poured forth. Yells soon joined it, as the door burst open and the guys fled out into the hall, similarly half dressed. The women hooted, making grabs for the scattered towels on dripping wet men. Eddie and Richie ran by, both soaked and covering themselves with small hand towels. Shawnee stuck out her foot, tripping her boyfriend, laughing as the short lifeguard went tumbling. By the time he had regained his feet, Shawnee had already turned her attention to his new friend. 

"So," she coyly asked Richie as she played with his towel. "Tessa tells me you're very good at helping poor, destitute young girls. I'm very destitute..." The blond girl was getting desired effects from both the young men, Richie gulping nervously and Eddie storming up furiously. She glared when her boyfriend opened his mouth, resorting to a punch in his gut to keep him quiet. As the lifeguard went down, Richie disentangled himself from her playful fingers. 

"I think we... ah, need to get going," the redhead hastily apologized, grabbing Eddie and making a dash for the stairs. The women in the hall, Tessa included, broke out into gales of laughter. Shawnee led her charge back into the dressing room, conversing about the hang-ups females have on male-dominated TV shows.

* * *

An hour later, Eddie and Richie stood on the deck of Tower 69, Eddie's usual hangout. Both sported binoculars, raking their level gaze over the pounding surf. One monster wave rushed the coast, driving surfers that challenged it into the froth, crashing with a mighty roar as it approached the beach. "Check out the size of that one..." Eddie said, in awe. 

"Wow," was all Richie could reply. "Look at the one in yellow beside her, the one turning over," he continued, nudging the lifeguard. Eddie only gaped appreciatively. He always knew two sets of eyes were better than one. Out in the surf, three swimmers started yelling, waving their arms as the undertow dragged them down. It went unnoticed by the two young men, eagerly watching for some babe to take her top off. "So this is what you do all day," Richie finally said, his eyes too tired to focus. _Now this is the life,_ he thought, comparing it to his humdrum existence at the antique store. _Maybe Duncan would let me stay...._

"Yep," Eddie replied, taking one last sweep of the crowd before setting his binoculars down. "Then at night, I usually fool around with Shawnee, or run around the house in tight shorts and hit things. Say, do you box?" 

Richie reviewed the limited fighting skills Duncan had shown him. "No. But I do a mean impression of a punching bag! Hey, do you like to break into houses and steal things?" 

Eddie shook his head no, slow enough to not mess up his hair. "I get into enough trouble around here without breaking the law. Besides, one of the regulars is a cop." The lifeguard broke into a smile as two gorgeous blonds walked by. 

Richie ventured a wave, not terribly disappointed when the two kept staring at Eddie, ignoring him. "I'm glad we don't have that problem. In fact, the cops don't last too long in Seacouver. Or Paris, for that matter." 

"They get killed?" Eddie asked, not seeing Richie's dejected look. 

"No, just disappear." Richie replied, trying to decide what Eddie had that he didn't. _Maybe the whining should go... I'm only playing eighteen._ As his gaze traveled down Eddie, another thought popped into his head. _Maybe I need a really big sword..._ Aware of the fact he hadn't used the bathroom in fifteen months, he wondered aloud. "What do you do if you gotta go?..." 

Eddie turned around. "That's easy," he said, reaching for the loud speaker. Flicking it on, the ear-splitting screech cutting through the surf, he yelled "SHARK!!!" The reaction was instantaneous. In two blinks, the beach was deserted. The only thing remaining was a blanket, left behind in the stampede. Tugging on Richie's arm, leading the stunned redhead down the tower ramp, the two made their way to the bathroom near the highway. By the time they returned, people were once more arriving, a few brave souls venturing into the water. "Works every time," Eddie said when they had returned to the tower. Neither saw the four beefy guys tailing them from the bathrooms.

* * *

"Come right on in," Mitch was saying as he opened the front door to his abode, leading Duncan inside. "Make yourself at home," he added, gesturing at the huge living room. "I'll go upstairs and get the Horse." Duncan sat on a sofa as the lifeguard climbed the stairs. From the other side of the kitchen, a young boy, almost twelve, entered, surprised to see a strange man in the den. 

Suddenly alarms went off, sirens blared, and the Power Rangers teleported in. Quickly, they ran up the boy, asking him if he remembered what to do in this situation, all the while making funny gestures with their arms. Hobie Buchannon shook his head yes. "Rule One," the kid spouted from rote, "get out of the house and go to the neighbors. Rule Two, call the police. Rule Three, if he comes after you, mace him in the face, kick him in the crotch, and poke his eyes out." 

"Good work, Hobie," the Red Ranger exclaimed, changing poses with each word. The whole group gave each other high fives while congratulating themselves, their helmeted heads bobbing up and down. During all this, Mitch came back down, holding the statue. He took one look at the bunch in the kitchen and sighed. 

"Hobie," the lifeguard said, a dejected tone in his voice. "What have I told you about having friends over? Let them wait outside." Hobie ushered the six Rangers out the front door as Mitch strode into the den, placing the heavy statue on the coffee table. "Here you go, Mac. One horse." 

Duncan leaned forward, eager to get his hands on the piece. "Do you have the papers?" he asked, intently examining it. 

"Darn," Mitch exclaimed. "I left them upstairs. Be right back." With gusto, the lifeguard ran up the stairs two at a time. While he was gone, Duncan moved the statue around, touching the wood. During this time, he felt... watched. Turning his head suddenly, he came face to face with Hobie. 

"Do they have kids where you come from?" Hobie suddenly asked, dropping several lines of dialogue. Duncan waited for the director to yell cut, but when minutes went by, he took a deep breath, plowing ahead. 

"No. We have something worse. Watchers." 

"Oh," the child simply said, continuing to stare. Duncan stared back, wondering when the scene was going to end. The hairs on the back of his neck rose, as a suspicious thought crept its way into his head. With blinding speed, the Highlander grabbed Hobie's wrist, turning it into the light. There as plain as day was the blue tattoo all the Watchers wore. 

Duncan said a word that got edited, dragging the boy over the sofa as he roughly grabbed him by the neck with a muscled hand. "Who are you, really? Where did you get that? Are you watching me?" 

Hobie fervently wished the Power Rangers would morph right on in and save the day like they always do. Trying to breathe, the boy gasped, "Some guy on the beach was selling these stamps, see?" With effort, he pulled a rubber stamp from his pocket, shoving it into Duncan's face. "Like a gang, see?" When the Immortal let up, the boy ran from the room, trying to find the Power Rangers in the garage. 

Mitch came down the stairs in time to see Hobie speed out. "What's with him?" the lifeguard asked Duncan, handing him a stack of papers at the same time. 

"I dunno," Duncan answered, rifling through the documents after tossing the stamp over his shoulder. "I love kids, really," he added, deciding that the statue was the genuine article. "Well, I'm satisfied." The Highlander stood, turning to Mitch. They shook hands as Duncan said, "I'll wire the money into your account this afternoon. If you have a checking account, that is." 

Mitch smiled. "Ha, ha, smarty. I see why you have to work in Canada. Now that you're satisfied, I need to get back to headquarters. We've been having reports of shark attacks all morning. If you're not busy, how about a little sparring?"

* * *

"Don't worry, MacLeod," Mitch said as he ushered the antique dealer into a dark, deserted room on the first floor of Baywatch headquarters. "This is our filing room." Duncan gazed around the bare area, empty except for the light fixture hanging from the ceiling. "What, you think we do paperwork?" the lifeguard asked incredulously at Duncan's unvoiced question. 

"Sorry. I did think being able to read and write was a requirement for the job," Duncan replied, his goofy grin belying his sarcasm. Without preamble, he drew his katana, taking a few practice swings in the dusty air. His grin vanished when he saw Mitch calmly standing with only his red flotation can. "Hey, I thought you wanted to spar. Draw your sword and let's get going." 

"That's fine, I don't think I'm really going to need it," Mitch deadpanned, starting with a roundhouse using his trusty flotation device. Duncan easily ducked, only to connect with Mitch's foot, sending the Highlander sprawling backwards. Mitch just stood and laughed, tossing the red can in the air as Duncan picked himself up. 

With one hand, the Highlander tested his jaw, glad nothing had shattered. Looking determined, he posed in a frightful position, sword raised high, light glinting off the blade. "If that's the way you want it, hot shot. Don't be surprised if I ram that thing down your throat." With a primeval scream, the Highlander charged, katana swinging down... 

...only to be stopped cold by the cheap-looking plastic can. Mitch chuckled at Duncan's look of surprise. "Space-age polymers. Fruitcake. And steel-reinforced plexiglass," he said, tossing the blade up and then ramming the can into Duncan's unprotected stomach. Duncan dropped like a rock. 

"Ease up, guy," Duncan gasped from the floor, holding his aching gut. "I'm always the best fighter..." 

Mitch grinned. "You're on MY show, now, monkeyboy. And I'm the EXECUTIVE PRODUCER !!!!" With that utterance, the lifeguard raised the red can over the helpless Duncan, ready to bring it crashing down on the cringing... 

"Wait a minute," Duncan said, interrupting Mitch's unscripted fantasy sequence. "How in the world do you behead somebody with that thing?" He asked, pointing at the smooth, teardropped shape item. The lifeguard stopped, taking another moment to examine it. 

Mitch turned it this way and that way, did you ever see a lassie go... ah, Mitch looked at it. "I don't know," he finally said, shrugging his shoulders helplessly. "But I bet it isn't pretty," he added after a moment. "Hell, I didn't know I was an Immortal until we did pre-production on this show." Both men stood, aware that the momentum of the fight had slithered off. Just when it looked like they'd have to do another take, the door burst open, and two females ran into the room. 

"They've got Eddie," Shawnee announced, breathing heavy after her jog across the beach. "And Richie, too," she added, momentarily forgetting this was a crossover. Mitch looked concerned, but Duncan only stared at the other woman in the room. 

"What are you doing here?" the Highlander asked, confusingly pointing at the spiffily dressed Anne Lindsey. She turned to look behind her, wondering who Duncan was referring to. Finding no one, she turned back, looking innocent and amazed as she pointed to herself. "Yes, you!" Duncan added. 

"Well..." she began, stretching the one syllable to twenty seconds as she clasped her hands together. "Alexandra wanted to go back to Paris, I'm Canadian, and Linda Carter already had a series..." She finished by cocking her head and batting her eyelashes at him as she coyly smiled. 

Mitch meanwhile was in heated discussion with Shawnee. "How do you know they've been kidnapped? This is your day off." The older lifeguard gestured at Anne as he continued. "What happened to Miss Noel? And where did you find that one? She looks like a beanpole that got dragged through the new wave department at Dillards!" Shawnee just looked distraught, unable to say anything. "Well?" Mitch finally asked in the silence. 

"Uh, what was the question?" Shawnee asked. Anne walked over to the young blond, offering a word of comfort and a quick hug, all the while glaring balefully at the older lifeguard. 

Mitch fumed, mentally picturing Shawnee having a bizarre fatal accident in the season finale. One involving a falling 747. "HOW do you know that RICHIE and EDDIE were KIDNAPPED?" he yelled, wondering what sin had brought all this torment to him. 

Shawnee turned red, nervously clasping and unclasping her hands. "Well. I sorta was following them. Richie, I mean." The looks of recrimination from the two men broke her resistance. "All right! I was stalking Richie," she finally blurted, her lycra bathing suit almost unable to stand the stress. "He's such a stud muffin, and Eddie would get jealous..." 

Anne cooed soothingly, rubbing Shawnee's bare arms. "That O.K., honey. Here," she said, reaching into her purse and pulling out a card, handing it to the blond. "I have a friend who can help you with that. Give him a call later." 

"Well, that's it," Duncan said, sheathing his katana. Slapping Mitch on the shoulder, he announced, "Let's go rescue them!" 

As the foursome sped out the door, following Shawnee, Anne rummaged in her purse, looking for another card. "I know someone that can help..." she yelled, her voice fading as they ran down the hall.

* * *

"Oh, man," Richie said, struggling against the tight ropes. "I knew I shouldn't have listened to Mac." The redhead had awakened from the knockout gas, only to find himself tied to a wooden chair. Eddie stirred soon after, similarly restrained. Now both sidekicks were furiously trying to escape, knowing it was futile. They were always the ones being rescued. 

"I wished the bad guys wouldn't tie the knots so tight," Eddie commented, wiggling from side to side. "This job isn't supposed to hurt." The camera panned over his body, killing time before the next commercial break. 

Richie finally lost patience with his comrade. "Have you ever watched yourself on TV? Now THAT hurts!" he yelled, wishing he could pull a sword out of thin air. _Or even a pocket knife._

Eddie's reply was lost in the loud noise of the door lock squeaking. That was followed by the ominous creaking of the door slowly swinging open. Into the room stepped a man, his face lost in the shadows. "I see you both are awake," he said, wringing his hands evilly. "Just as well, my plans depend on your undivided attention. Now, which one of you is the lifeguard, and which is the expendable hostage?" 

Without a beat, both young men answered, "HIM!!" while wiggling in their bonds. The spectacle brought a laugh to the man's lips. He walked around the room, circling the guys, his face always in darkness. 

"It would go much better on you two if you cooperate. I want to know which one Mitch Buchannon is going to rescue. Is it you?" he asked, turning Eddie's head to face him. For a brief moment, the lifeguard got a glimpse of his captor's face. 

"You?" Eddie asked, redoubling his efforts to free himself. "What are you doing here? You're supposed to be..." His voice was silenced as the mysterious man gagged him with duct tape. Once Eddie was reduced to mumbles, the man walked to Richie. 

"So you must be the expendable one..." the man said, also gagging Richie with the tape. Once that was done, he left the room, only to return with a powerful looking bomb, which he taped to Richie's chest. The redhead yelled, struggling even more until the man grabbed his chin. "If you wiggle too much, this might go off prematurely." Richie's eyes grew wide. "You do know what 'going off prematurely' means?" the man asked. Richie frantically nodded yes, causing the bomb to beep with his movement. His eyes grew even wider, sweat breaking out on his forehead. "Don't worry," the man added, walking to the door, "I'll be back in a little while." With a flick of his hands, he plunged the room into darkness before shutting and locking the door, leaving the two sidekicks alone, making helpless muffled noises into their gags.

* * *

"Come on, Duncan," Mitch said, grabbing the Highlander's arm to stop him. The four were currently searching the boardwalk, finding nothing. "We've looked along the beach, all the deserted piers, and now here. They've disappeared." 

Duncan jerked his arm away, almost hitting Anne and Shawnee. "I'm not giving up," he yelled in anger. _Maybe we should have asked Joe before he finished his scenes,_ he futilely thought. The two men started arguing, neither noticing the two women sneaking toward the electronics store. 

"Let's try this one," Anne said, flipping through the channels of a television set. Reaching channel 157 and not finding what she wanted, she turned to Shawnee. "Do you know what channel it comes on?" 

Shawnee examined her watch, then looked thoughtfully at Anne. "Try 34. It should be on now." With a nod, Anne switched to Channel 34, both women stepping back to watch the screen. 

John Tesh appeared, sitting behind the ET newsdesk. "Two of the top rated syndicated dramas join forces in tonight's coming attractions." The coming attractions logo swept onto the screen, to be replaced by Baywatch's usual opening. Over the music, John continued. "What do you get when you mix swords and surf? A whole lotta' shakin' going on." A behind-the-scenes shot came on, the scene with Mitch and Duncan in the lifeguard's living room. Someone yelled cut, and the two men started a pillow fight. "This special episode, combining the casts of Baywatch and Highlander: The Series, is an action/adventure lover's delight. It builds to a final, climatic sword fight at the old warehouse on Highway 1, where two of the cast members were being held by the guest star, a wonderful surprise to old movie lovers." A camera zoomed in on the deserted building, the two struggling forms of Eddie and Richie being dragged into a door appearing on the screen. "Baywatch airs in syndication this weekend, so check your local listings." 

With a click, John was history. Anne and Shawnee rushed out of the store, managing to keep the two leads from beginning a brawl. "We know where they are," Shawnee yelled, taking off for the yellow Scarab speedboat, conveniently left at the end of the pier. Anne followed, the two men bringing up the rear, asking how they had found out. "Trade secret," Shawnee yelled back, starting the ignition. With a roar, the yellow speedboat took off into the sea, sending water spraying in its wake.

* * *

It was some time before the evil Immortal returned, giving Eddie time to squirm some more. He has almost managed to shake Richie enough to explode the bomb when the door creaked open. The lifeguard looked in terror as the man reached a hand slowly toward his face. With unexpected speed, the tape was ripped off Eddie's face, the pain making him scream until the sound man turned down the volume. 

"Jesus, that hurts," Eddie yelled, wondering what the madman had in store for the two sidekicks. "Oh man," he tried to say, his lips sticking together when he closed his mouth. "Please let us go. Nobody knows where we are. They'll never find us!" 

The man chuckled, gesturing to the door. Eddie looked, surprised when the ET camera crew waved back. "Mary Hart's already set up the interview, my helpless captive." 

"Why... why are you doing this?" Eddie asked, the tinge of hysteria creeping into his voice. "I wasn't even born when you were around." He quickly shut up when the man threatened him with duct tape. 

"You're starting to whine like your friend," the guest star hissed. "It's enough that your captain has stolen everything that was to be mine, especially after 'Back to the Beach" came out. But noooo," he intoned, dancing around the room, "your boss had already started this little show." Suddenly he whirled at Richie, sending the redhead squirming, the bomb beeping menacingly. "I even managed to get it canceled off of NBC, and then look what that brainless beefcake does! He takes it to syndication! Why, I..." 

**BEEP, BEEP "Warning. Intruder Alert, Section 27,"** intoned Majel Barrett's voice. 

"Damn!" the bad guys spat. "They're early." He quickly flipped a switch on the bomb taped to Richie's chest, sending the beeps up a fifth, and twice as fast. With a whirl, he sped from the room, leaving the 

***** WE INTERRUPT THIS PROGRAM FOR A FOX NEWS UPDATE. *****

> "Hello, I'm John Wallace. Moments ago, on Days of Our Lives, it was revealed that Gina is not really Hope, but just another brainwashed victim of the DiMera family. This makes the fourth time in the last two decades that the Brady family has been fooled by a cheap impostor. We go LIVE now, to correspondent Nancy Francis, standing by with Caroline Brady at the Brady Pub set." 
> 
> "Well, Nancy. She just seemed so nice, and Alice was truly convinced she was her grand-daughter Hope. Or is she her great-grand-daughter? Anyway, it's really difficult to tell the two apart, what with Kristian playing both parts. Not at the same time, mind you, because that takes a lot of special effects and money we can't spend right now, but since Hope was last seen in a bird cage, dangling over the pit of acid in the hologram before everything exploded, sending her and that horrible Alamain character to their deaths. No, not Lawrence, he wasn't really that bad, well, except to my son, Bo. Actually, both of them..." 

***** THIS HAS BEEN A FOX NEWS UPDATE. WE NOW RETURN TO OUR REGULARLY SCHEDULED PROGRAMMING, ALREADY IN PROGRESS. *****

"...So, my helpless victims, that's why you all must die!" the bad guy finished, waving Duncan's katana and chuckling as both Mitch and Duncan joined Eddie and Richie in their struggles against the seemingly endless supply of white nylon rope, chairs, and duct tape this guy had. 

"You won't get away with it!" Mitch countered, already trying to cut his way free using the red flotation can. Duncan was busy too, searching his magic pocket for something that would help. Richie kept fainting every time the bomb beeped, and Eddie was casually flipping the magazine pages with his feet. The evil kidnapper slowly placed the sharp blade against the older lifeguard's neck, reveling in the emotions in the room. 

Suddenly, Shawnee and Anne burst through the unlocked door, freezing in shock when they saw the situation. "FRANKIE AVALON!" both screamed, before shoving their fists in their mouths and jumping up and down, squealing. The aged surfer whirled, both pleased and apprehensive at their arrival. 

"Now, my pretties, we'll get down to the fun stuff. Just as soon as I take care of these guys!" Frankie said, twirling his fake mustache. 

The girls stopped their rabid frenzy, looking very unconcerned. Shawnee looked over at Anne as she calmly asked, "Ready?" With a smile, the trauma surgeon pulled out a garage door opener, showing the guest star. Effortlessly, she pressed the one red button, sending the little device into a beeping fit that put the bomb on Richie to shame. In the excitement, the redhead fainted again. Above, on the roof of the warehouse, the garage door opener activated, the patented screw mechanism jerking the trapdoor open. With nothing to support the carefully balanced lawn chair, it tumbled, sending the ice chest on it plummeting to the warehouse floor, pulling the fishing wire attached to the metal handle through the pulley at dizzying speeds. On the other end of the wire, the opened umbrella dragged the carcass of a freshly landed swordfish across the roof, up the short ramp, until it flew off the building. The two towels tied to its tail kept it from flying too far away, instead it pendulumed back, crashing through the basement window to slice through two support beams and Frankie Avalon's head. 

"Well done," Duncan said, noticing the other supports were collapsing as well, sending asbestos dust pouring into the room. Shawnee untied Eddie as Anne used a scalpel to free Mitch and Duncan. Around them, the ceiling caved in, adding more dust. "Get his Quickening!" Duncan yelled to the other Immortal. Mitch briefly searched Frankie's decapitated body, grabbing the large cylindrical object. Together the group rushed out of the warehouse, stopping far enough away to safely watch the building finish collapsing. The Highlander looked around, pleased with the ending. "Uh, where's Ol' Coppertop?" he asked, noticing the redhead's stunt double was missing. 

"You mean this?" Mitch asked, holding up the large Duracell battery he had taken out of Frankie Avalon. Duncan just shook his head in sadness, wishing his headache would go away. Just then, some of the debris moved, followed by a whole section of fake cement wall. Slowly, the injured Richie crawled from the wreckage, two strips of hairless skin on his chest the only proof that a bomb had been strapped to him moments ago. 

"See, people? No problem!" he said, stumbling over to the group. His hair was a mess, there were black streaks on his face, and small drops of blood dotted his chest where the hair had been ripped out. "Premature my ass," he said, looking at his watch. "That word isn't even in my dictionary," he went on, circling around the two women. "Why, I still had a good ten minutes left..." 

**BA-BA-BA BOOOOOM!** went the remains of the building, sending fiery rubble shooting into the sky. Small chunks rained down on the group, quickly put out by production assistants armed with fire extinguishers. "Couldn't go the distance, little boy?" Shawnee asked, nuzzling against her well-tested boyfriend. 

"But-t-t-t I-I n-never..." Richie stuttered, mouth gaping as he checked his watch again. 

Duncan leaned closed, punching Richie on the chest. "They have exercises for that now, tough guy," he whispered, gathering Anne with his arm, the surgeon trying to find Dr. Ruth's 800 number in her purse. 

"I thought you trained him on how to use his sword, Duncan?" the older lifeguard asked, sandwiching himself between the two women. "Or is that your usual 'fast draw' technique?" he finished. 

"T-T-en mi-minutes..." Richie stuttered, suddenly sitting down, the shock overwhelming him. The other five moved on, carefully making their way along the beach, ending up by the water as the sun set behind them. 

Anne wormed her arm around Duncan's, snuggling next to her future love interest as they walked. Looking up, she noticed him engrossed in the backs of the three lifeguards. Especially the blond lifeguard's pert little derriere. "Don't you think she's a little young for you?" she casually asked, nestling her head against his chest. 

"At my age, the Mona Lisa is jailbait," he replied. Behind them, finally appearing over the rocks, a lone figure, loaded down with the fish-loaded ice chest, bent lawn chair, soggy umbrella, and used towels stumbled after them, a sad wail drifting over the crashing waves. 

"GUUUUUUUYYYYYYYYYSSSSSSSS"

* * *

> "Hi, I'm Lisa Howard. If you have a medical problem, neurosis, mental disorder or psychosis, you CAN get help. Call 1-900-GET-Anne!, and professionally trained assistants, personally selected, will help you get in touch with people that can cure you. Don't let the solutions you need disappear forever. Call now!" 

* * *

Next time on the Mighty Morphin' Power Rangers... 

Lord Zed decides Richie Ryan would be the perfect leader of his evil fighting squad. Can Duncan keep from beheading the Pink Ranger long enough to rescue him? Will Alpha Five be able to activate the hubris thunderzord? Watch Duncan MacLeod in spandex as the Plaid Ranger on the next exciting episode of the Power Rangers!


End file.
